


I just wanted fucking Ice Cream.

by Beamer_x_boy



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunk Peter Parker, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt, Hurt Peter, Ice Cream, Identity Reveal, Insecure Wade Wilson, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 01:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20349943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beamer_x_boy/pseuds/Beamer_x_boy
Summary: Peter felt stupid.Thinking that Wade Wilson of all people, would take him seriously if he found out his age.(Everyone is 18+ in this. Chill)





	1. He was gonna get Ice cream, damn it.

**Author's Note:**

> I might get some stuff wrong but I'm taking things I've seen everywhere and stuffing it in a fic. I hope you enjoy :)

Peter _ just _ turned 18. Every single one of the Avengers treated him like a child, like he hadn't been through shit loads of trauma that aged him beyond his years. 

And having a crush on a 27 year old man just made him feel pathetic. Made him feel like a child crushing on a celebrity, like Wade was so beyond his league, that he was some stupid, oblivious teenager. 

Wade had treated Peter like the age he acted. A 23 year old. The mask hid his boyish features, made his age hard to determine unless he told them. The avengers took him seriously before he decided to let them in on his secret identity. Now it was all _ you're too young _ or _ this mission is too dangerous _ or _ go and live your life, kid _ . Or even the occasional _ go do your homework _ even if he had graduated. 

None of that seemed to matter that much when Steve fought him, years ago. They did their worst, and now they feel bad because Peter was 16. They let him in on big fights, huge battles before. Now he was too young. 

Wade was a breath of fresh air, if he was being honest. Treated him like the adult he was, like the adult he felt like he was long before he actually turned 18. 

And Wade hitting on him made him feel validated. Even the inappropriate comments made him laugh and punch him in the shoulder, but confidence always ran through his veins. It always did when he was with Wade, made him feel like he could do anything. It felt like flying. 

And he felt like he was more then some nerd, then some geeky loner when he was with Wade. Like he was worth something, like he was more than just his suit or more then the stereotypical nerd. 

He listened to Peter talk about science when he barely understood it, but he would listen like he would die if he didnt. He would even ask questions. He didn't get bored, didn't interrupt him, didn't tell him to stop. 

Wade treated Peter like he had something important to say, like he was more than some immature 18 year old who hasn't seen the world yet. 

And Peter would let Wade go on his rants about his favorite TV shows, a new gun he got, or how much he loved unicorns. And all Peter could do was listen to his voice and save the words in his head like they were treasures. 

He planned on never telling Wade how he felt. Wouldn't tell him his age, or his name. 

Until One day, they heard that some creature was attacking New York and went to fight it off. 

They had just arrived, and saw that the avengers were there, already trying to fight it off. They took one look at each other and bound into action. 

It had big, gangly legs that crushed buildings. It looked to be a mix of creatures, spider legs, an enlarged human torso, elephant skin, huge fangs that leaked acid like venom. Its face had to be the scariest part, it was a bear, eyes glowing red. 

It was ugly. An experiment gone wrong. People screaming, acid eating through flesh, people dead and sprawled in the street. The scene made Peter's stomach flip. 

Iron Man was firing his repulsors at its legs, but a new one would grow in its place. It seemed he was managing to distract while the other avengers tried to hurt it. It was nearly impossible to get to its head, it was so tall. 

"Jesus fuck." Peter allowed himself to curse, because he thought the situation called for it. Wade just glanced at him with wide eyes, but said nothing. 

"How do we go at it?" 

"I'll try and get its legs, distract it, make some jokes. You get to its head and web its eyes are mouth or something." Wade's voice had no playfulness in it, like normal. Peter nodded and they both emerged themselves into the fight. 

Everyone was slightly shocked to see Wade, questioning glances toward him. 

And everyone was scared for Peter, who was trying to crawl up on the things back, while Wade talked and shot jokes, noticing how the things head tilted every time he talked. 

"Spiderman, get down!" Iron shouted through the com that was in Peter's suit. His voice was filled with anger and worry. He ignored him, in favor of surprising things by webbing its eyes shut. 

The roar of anger was something that would haunt Peter for years. Peter tried to web its legs to the cement while it was distracted, but the Webbing was torn off with obvious super strength. 

Peters heart dropped when the torso only grew larger and he was plucked off one of the spider legs like a bug. 

His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, and the voices from the coms only sounded like whispers compared to the rushing of blood in his ears. He tried prying the squeezing fingers off his torso, panicked. 

"Think you're so strong, huh?" The monster asked, leaning forward, large fangs dangerously close to his chest. "You're nothing but a child, Peter." The last word was whispered, but all the supers heard it. 

There goes his identity. 

To wade, at least. 

Anger suddenly rushed through his body, and he stopped struggling. He looked at the face, scarily close. He looked for the vulnerable parts. Everyone, even genetically modified people had them. 

Then he lunged forward and dug his thumbs straight through his eyes, bloodcurdling screams echoed through his ears. Then he whispered words he thought he never would, 

"Activate instant kill."

In a matter of seconds, the thing collapsed, and Peter webbed himself to the nearest building, shouting at Karen to deactivate instant kill. He smashed against the side of the building roughly, but recovered quickly and lowered himself to the ground. 

His ribs were definitely broken. His hip hurt. Blood and other eye fluids coated his hands. Everything hurt, but the only thing that kept running through his head was, _ I almost died. It could've killed me. _

He collapsed against the side of the building. 

He _ killed _it. 

He killed someone, on purpose. 

_ Oh God. _

He bent over and barely got the mask over his mouth before puking up all the Tacos he ate with deadpool before. 

"Spidey!" Deadpool's voice boomed through the air, and relief flooded his system knowing Wade was okay. Peter knew he couldn't die, but he really hated seeing him in pain. 

Peter wiped the puke off his lips with the back of his arm, looking up and seeing Wade running towards him. 

It only took seconds for Wade to reach him, hands on his shoulders. 

"Chist spidey, you scared the fuck outta me. Does anything hurt? Well of course shit hurts, I'm stupid. Hey, are you okay? Can you talk? Did he get any of the venom stuff on you?" Wade lightly shook his shoulders, trying to get him to do anything other then staring at him blankly. 

Peter knew, he knew damn well he almost just died. Without letting Wade in, without getting to kiss him, without getting to cuddle and watch stupid movies. Without eating Wade's cooking that he boasted about. 

And Peter knew he was putting himself in danger everyday, knew he could die any second. But he never realized how much he would miss out on, if he didnt tell Wade. 

And Peter had never been so sure about his feelings, had never been so sure in telling Wade everything. 

"I love you." The words rushed out of him like wildfire, hot and quick. He felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, but his chest filled with hope. Hope that maybe, for once in his life, things would go right. 

They didn't. 

Wade ran. He didn't even say anything back, just looked at him blankly and sprinted off. 

Peter had been so sure he knew what the worst kind of heartbreak felt like, but this felt so much worse. 

  


\---

  


Stifling a yawn, Peter shielded himself from the light streaming through his window. Irritation built up in his stomach. 

Stupid fucking curtains, stupid fucking sun. 

Stupid Peter, for not closing them before he went to sleep. 

Peter knew the second he sat up, he wasn't going to work. He was gonna stay home, eat ice cream on the couch and try not to think about Wade. His ribs still hurt- bruised, most likely. His pulled up his shirt and bruises still littered his body, a few burns from the venom he got from the venom. After the fight, he crawled home on his own, not waiting around for the avengers. He _ really _ didn't want them to see him crying like a baby. The physical pain of walking, moving at all in general just made the emotional pain worse. 

When he opened his phone, he was bombarded with notifications from Tony and the others. They were all asking if he was okay, what happened, why Wade was freaking out and wouldnt tell them why, what he did, etc. 

He just powered his phone off completely after calling in for work. 

He was gonna eat ice cream, damn it. He was gonna forget. 

* * *

* * *

* * *


	2. All he found was some stray ice cubes and old TV dinners.

Technically, Peter was _ not _ allowed to drink. That didn't stop him from going out in his spidey suit and getting whiskey though. Nobody asked questions, just asked him for a picture and said thank you. 

When he got home via window, he stared at the thing for a while. Was he really gonna try and get drunk? He'd never had a sip of alcohol in his life, had no idea if it even _ worked _ with his healing factor. 

He looked up and paid attention to the TV, only seeing gossip girls, and thinking of Wade. 

He opened the bottle and took a fat gulp, eyes watering at the taste as it burned down his throat. 

He was at home, anyways. No one was gonna be here to judge him. No one but himself, anyways. He'd moved out the day he turned 18, a good 6 months ago. And he planned on getting shitfaced so hard he forgot how his ribs ached and how Wade's hands ran over his body yesterday while checking for injuries. 

Maybe he'd forget how alone he is. How MJ and Ned are off at college and how he's getting shitfaced in his shitty apartment in his shitty neighborhood. That he's taking a gap year to save up to even _ think _ about going to school. That he just lost his only friend because he opened his big, dumb mouth. 

He supposed he still had Aunt May, but she was busier than ever with her new boyfriend. Calling her would be a mistake. She'd only scold him for drinking, having bad coping mechanisms, and putting himself in danger being a superhero. She never really accepted how his life path was going. 

\--- 

He could get drunk. In fact, he's a lightweight. It only took him a shot to feel it- the dizzy tipsy feeling. He gulped down a few more (more than he needed, really). Closing the bottle, he set it on the coffee table and leaned back on the shitty couch he got from a junkyard. It was actually comfortable, and it only took a few deep cleans for it to stop smelling like cat piss. 

He was just really fucking tired. It had been forever since he got a full 8 hours. He was always patrolling or taking an extra shift at work. It had to at least been 3 years. 

It took him a split second of thought before he sprung up from his couch, heading for the freezer. Ice cream. He really wanted ice cream. 

All he found was some stray ice cubes and old TV dinners. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed. He stripped out of his suit, not wanting to be spiderman for a simple ice cream run. He layered up in sweats, and pulled a fluffy winter coat over that. His movements were sloppy, and fell at least 3 times tryna get dressed. 

Then he left his apartment, leaving it unlocked (he figured there's nothing of value in there, just an old computer he made out of scraps. He had his phone and wallet on him, so the only thing any burglars would find is an empty fridge and a crappy couch. Also an old ass TV that is worth, like 30 bucks) 

It was freezing out. 

Peter stumbled slightly when he walked, using random walls of buildings for support. His vision was swimming. 

_ Thump _. 

Pain flared in his tailbone, the wet pavement cooling his bum. He groaned. 

"Oh! Sorry, cutie, I wasn't looking where I was going. You good?" Hands fell on his shoulders as he squinted his eyes to try and focus on the figure in front of him. 

Deja vu hit him hard. 

So did the fact that it was _ Wade _ who he bumped into, of all people. The scared that mottled his cheeks told him that much, along with his voice. 

Wade always told him how ugly he was. And the scars weren't a secret. Peter had never personally saw his face, but it _ had _to be him. There's not many people covered head to toe in scars, and not many people would call him cute the second they met. Well, they didn't just meet, but it was the first time Wade met Peter Parker, in the flesh. 

"Hey. You're not drunk, are you? You've gotta be underage." 

Peter rolled his eyes. 

"What's it to you, Wade?" A loud burp sounded from Peter, and his shoulders slumped. Wade's eyes (pretty blue, gorgeous eyes, peter noted) widened. 

"How do you know my name, kid?" 

"I'm not a fucking kid. And you-you're deadpool, right?" Peter stuttered, stumbling over his words. Sadness filled them. He wanted to forget. He wanted ice cream. 

"And who are you?" Wade leaned closer, breath cloudy. Peter hated how he shivered at the heat radiating off him. His ass was frozen currently. 

"Peter Parker. Or, Spiderman, if you like him better. Oh wait- no. You don't like him." Peter shook his head at himself, hating how his throat clogged up at the words. 

Wade just stared blankly at him. Peter groaned, frustrated. 

"What? You gonna run again?" His lip trembled with the words, and he reached up and rubbed his eyes roughly. He was _ not _ crying. Peter decided he was tired of sitting on the ground, so he pushed Wade's arms off him. He nearly fell trying to get up, but he steadied himself. Wade hadn't said a word, only stood up to meet Peter's eyes. Peter stepped into Wade's personal space. 

"You not gonna say anything? After all these months and you cant even tell me I'm too young? Or how I'm not mature enough? Or maybe you just don't like me? Is that it?" Peter swayed, poking a finger at deadpool's broad chest. 

Wade said nothing. 

"You're a real asshole, you know? First you call me hot, cute, you even give me a fuckin nickname, and then you run the second I catch feelings? You get my hopes up only to fucking stomp on my heart. You're even refusing to speak! Am I that much of a fucking loser? Am I too little for you? Too fucking _ young _? What is it Wade! Fucking SPEAK!" Peter hit Wade's chest the hardest he could in his drunken stupor. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He looks down at his feet, stepping away. 

"I just wanted some fucking ice cream." 


	3. Cold n lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff for the angst

They said nothing. It was an awkward silence, to say the least. Peter's head was still swimming, his stomach felt sick. The 18 year old looked at his feet. 

His  _ bare _ feet. 

Did he forget to put on shoes?  _ What the hell? _

A startled laugh sounded out of him, hand reaching up to scratch his head. His thoughts still felt fuzzy, everything kinda did. 

_ I'm really drunk.  _

The thought only made another laugh spring from him. Amusement swelled in his stomach, despite just pouring his heart out to the guy he loved, and him literally just… staring at him. All he could think was,

_ I'm drunk, nothing matters. I'm not wearing shoes, and Wade still hasn't spoken, the world isn't ending. Everything's fine _ . 

Then he heaved the contents of his stomach on the sidewalk. He hadn't eaten much, could barely afford food as it was. Not much came out, just stomach acid and and stale bread. 

A hand rubbed through his hair, stroking across his scalp. Wade. 

"Let's get you home, Pete." A hand wrapped around his shoulders, strong and firm. His knees decided to finally give out. Wade saved him from falling in his vomit. 

"Don't wanna go home," Peter mumbled, feeling suddenly super sleepy. 

"s'cold, nd lonely." Wade's face fell at the words. He gripped the sick boy tighter, heart beating out of his chest. 

"Okay, I'll take you to mine, baby boy. We'll talk when you're sober." Wade mumbled so only Peter would hear, and picked him up. Peter made a small noise before settling into Wade's shoulder. 

"You gonna talk to me? I tho' you hate me?" The voice was so  _ small _ so… childlike. Wade's heart ached, and he shook his head. 

He didn't say anything until he got home. It was a nice apartment, he made an effort to keep it clean and make it cozy, despite how much he bled on the furniture. The boy in his arms stirred, a small groan surfacing from pink lips. Wade set Peter on his couch, softly. His scarred hand felt his forehead, and his hands. He was freezing. 

Peter's eyes were glassy when they looked at him in confusion, it looked like he was gonna cry any second. Wade puffed hot air on Pete's hands, holding them in his own big, warm ones. He'd answer Pete's questions in the morning. 

"M' pants wet." Peter slurred, wiggling. Wade nodded. 

"Give me a sec, sweetcheeks. And take off your jacket." He set Pete's hands in his lap and made his way to his bedroom. He dug through his clothes before he found fluffy hello kitty pj pants. 

He practically ran back to his baby boy, letting out a breath when he wasnt back asleep, only wearing a t shirt. He wanted Peter's permission before dressing him. 

Wade dropped to his knees in front of Peter, and put a hand on his knee. Peter was barely holding his head up, his eyes were heavy. 

"Can I change you, baby boy?" Peter looked at him confused for a second, processing the words. Peter nodded. 

Wade quickly made work of his button and zipper, not looking at Pete's face. He tucked his fingers under the waistband, gripping the Jean's. 

"Lift." Peter did what he was told as Wade tugged his pants down. He was faced with deadpool underwear. The smile on his face was inevitable, it hurt his cheeks. He let a laugh escape. 

"Hey, don' make fun of me." Peter hit his shoulder, scolding. Wade just shook his head, still smiling, guiding Peter's legs through the pants. 

"I would never, baby boy. Lift." Peter listened, and wade finished pulling up his pants. Wade stood, and slipped off his sweatshirt. He avoided Peter's eyes on instinct, and pulled the warm material over Peter's slender shoulders. 

A satisfied groan sounded from Peter. Wade couldn't help the blush. 

  
  
  



	4. I have no clue what any of that means and it's still not a reasonable explanation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hehehhehehehehe

_ Ouch _ . 

Peter curled up in pain, gripping his sweatshirt. He refused to think about anything, just breathed through the pain, hands pressed against his eyes. 

"You up, baby boy? Made you pancakes." The familiarity invaded him, only took him a second to figure out this was Wade's apartment. It was too warm, too soft, too comfortable for it to be his own. He sat up. 

"Here, I'll close the blinds. I have pills for you, and water." Wade pulled the blinds closed, let darkness flower through the room. Peter's shoulders dropped, relaxed at the light change. 

When he opened his eyes, removing his hands from his face, he remembered. He felt like screaming in embarrassment. His cheeks heated up as he remembered it all. He was  _ better _ then this. 

"Here, baby boy, take these." Peter held his hand out, and Wade dropped pills in his hand. He took them without saying anything, not meeting Wade's eyes. Wade sighed heavily, and plopped on the couch next to Peter's feet. Pancakes were set in the younger boys lap, smelling delectable. Wade always bragged about his pancakes. 

"... so. How old are you, exactly?" The question rushed out of Wade in one breath, like he was eager for the answer. It shook Peter up a little. 

"I'm 18, Wade." The boy didn't bother hiding the sadness that crept in his voice, the way his shoulders slumped. This is it, it for sure. Wade would stop treating him like he always felt like he should. He would stop with the flirting. Maybe even stop seeing him all together. 

_ I really don't want to lose my best friend.  _

The thought echoed in his head, and he honestly stopped questioning when Wade stopped being an annoying person to his best friend. 

He fully expected to be laughed at, or to be told his age was a problem, that in any other circumstances they could be together. He fully expected to leave feeling like shit and completely destroyed. 

And then Wade let out a huge fucking breath and his shoulders slumped completely. 

"Iron dildo said you were a fucking teenager. Like  _ teenager _ teenager. Thank fuck. Pete, I thought I was boutta feel like shit for lo- liking you." 

The shock that filled Peter was like no other. His eyes widened, his head snapping up, eyes meeting Wade's. 

"Wait so-!" Peter's entire body straightened, words loud, making his head twinge in pain. 

Looking at Peter from Wade's view was complete bliss. He may have eye bags for days, and his hair may be  _ everywhere _ , but he was smiling with bright, happy eyes. And looking  _ at Wade _ . He felt like he didn't deserve that look. Full of such admiration and pure happiness. 

All Wade could do was smile back, chuckling lightly. 

"Yeah baby. I like you too." 

For the first time, with a completely sober Peter, a blush filled his cheeks and he made a happy sound in the back of his throat. Wade could look at him forever like this. 

"I-! You-!" Peter let out a sound of frustration, not able to get the right words. Instead, he lunged forward and hugged Wade. Squeezed him tight. 

"You asshole!" Peter pulled away, keeping him at arm's length. The youngers morning breath wafted in his face, but he didn't care all that much. 

"Why'd you just! Leave like that!" Peter's eyebrows furrowed, a strong heated look taking over his face. He wasn't smiling anymore. 

"Well, it really wouldn't be in character for me to confess my love back. The author just  _ had _ to make us both suffer through thinking shit that wasnt true- yeah, fuck you author! What do mean- oh. Well never mind. The author was suffering through a break up, he needed some angst and fluff to make him feel better. Which- weird coping mechanisms, dude. But-" Peter slapped a hand over his mouth. (Haha suck it Wade -author) 

"I have no clue what any of that means and it's still not a reasonable explanation!" Peter puffed his chest out, like he was getting ready for a fight. He'd done that last night, too. Wade licked Peter's hand to get him to pull away. 

"Iron dildo was uh… threatening me? He said that you were a kid and I shouldn't be around you because… I'm a disease. All while you were climbing that creature like a total  _ badass _ by the way. The way you stuck your thumbs in its eyes was wild, baby!" Wade rambled, hands still clutching at Peter's back.

Peter's mouth was still a frown, but now he was blushing. He let out a growl. It made Wade jr excited. Fear and arousal was a great combo, in Wade's humble opinion. 

"That asshole. I'm so sick of himself treating you like shit." Fire was blazing in Peter's eyes, oh boy, he was mad. Heat balled up in Wade's stomach, hearing those words. He found it shocking that anyone even cared about him, much less Spider-man. 

_ That's hot _ . Wade thought, smirking. Peter suddenly met his eyes, the heat gone and now just softness.  _ Man, Peter is a rollercoaster of emotions right now _ . Wade thought, hands flexing against Pete's back. 

"Hey, Wade?" 

"Can I kiss you?"

  
  



	5. Strawberry Ice Cream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, everyone! Small but sweet ;)

Peter always dreamed that kissing Wade would be electrifying. That the ends of his nerves would set fire and his heart would jump out of his chest. 

It was like that, yeah. But it also felt like a warm welcome home, like a breath of fresh air. 

He also tasted a lot like strawberry ice cream. 


End file.
